


The Drug In Me is You

by deliriouslyshipping



Series: T'Cherik Drabbles [17]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha Erik, I don't really know how else to explain, M/M, beta T'Challa, they aren't mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15413088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriouslyshipping/pseuds/deliriouslyshipping
Summary: I feel like I could write a whole fic about this :) I hope you liked it.





	The Drug In Me is You

The Wakandan heat does nothing but contribute to the sweat rolling off of their bodies. T'Challa, like the lover that he is, takes time to appreciate every part that he can. His mouth drags around the neck, pressing kisses into the skin. Beneath him, he gets the response of a growl. Irritated, submissive enough, although he definitely does not want to be. T'Challa is more surprised at the amount of control the Alpha is presenting, letting him take enough control to perform this action. His natural biology does not react as well as an omega would, so he continues as he bites into the skin, sucking until he has his own mark on him. 

An four lettered "L" word comes to mind, but he can't afford to feel these emotions. Erik is not his to keep; they both understand fully that this is something temporary, to relieve their tensions towards each other. N'Jadaka, to everyone else, hates his guts and would kill him if he ultimately had the chance again, but the King knows different. T'Challa can recall, very well, the many opportunities that his cousin had to kill him when a hand was wrapped tightly around his throat. He could of very well died under the strong fingers, but instead he was pulled up for another powerful kiss as Erik thrusted deeper into him. 

So this is temporary, until one of them gets tired of this. Killing each other has been postponed, probably indefinitely. T'Challa cannot see himself driving another blade into his body again, not when he has seen as much as he has. Stuck by his side and defended him until he was partially accepted into Wakanda again after numerous psychological sessions and planned interactions with each tribe. He worked hard so that N'Jadaka would not just be the man driven by anger and hatred. Now here they are. 

T'Challa flexes his thighs as he weaves his fingers through the countless scars racking his lover's body. Erik maintains eye contact with him, teeth flashing in the internal struggle as T'Challa reveres the skin. 

"Do you know why I avoid them?" T'Challa asks quietly, dipping his head to lick through the maze. In the corner of his eyes, he can see the Alpha clenching his fists tightly, but he ignores it. "Because you are more than these," he touches one softly, as if it could hurt Erik, "you are more than your anger because you are not just strong in your muscles. You are strong here." The vertical scar, a reminder of the beginnings of change, nearly blended into the skin. The heart underneath, though broken and protected beneath many walls of hidden emotions, is beautiful, and T'Challa has no shame to admit it. Erik glares at him. 

"Are you done?" The words have an affect on him, T'Challa can tell. There is a tinge of fond beneath the Alpha instinct and he has no problem with digging deeper, attempting to bring it out of him. 

"I am never done with you.' That seems to be the limit for the Alpha, flipping the two of them over as he dominates the bed again. This was meant to be casual, no strings attached, but there has been a string attached since the moment N'Jadaka opened his eyes again, demanding why he was alive when all he wanted to do was to die with his pride. Classic Alpha. 

T'Challa loses the ability to breathe as Erik showers his body in various bite marks, never in the one place where it would actually matter. They aren't mates and there is nothing that they can do to stop that, not like they wanted each other as mates. N'Jadaka may still hate him, under all of this lust, and T'Challa may just be too sensitive to the war criminal, but until the day comes when this ends, their compatibility is shocking. 

He tries to buck his hips up, but is pushed back down into the mattress. "Too fucking sensitive for your own good."

 _Only to you,_ T'Challa promises to himself. Perhaps the two of them have been doing this for too long. He can feel the strings he is putting on the Alpha and it is only going to hurt him worse in the end. He can be thrown away like the Beta he is. 

Erik bites his bottom lip into his mouth, tongues sliding against each other habitually, and T'Challa loses his thoughts, too invested in everything that is Erik. 

* * *

 

It is no secret that N'Jadaka is an attractive Alpha. Unmated omegas and betas fawn over him consistently, feeding into the dominant personality that Erik already is. Many have thrown themselves at him. Always in private - N'Jadaka is not someone you want to exclusively claim as someone you have casually performed intercourse with - and it is expected that he would take any opportunity that he can. 

He doesn't, which confuses the rejected. T'Challa has no real problem against it, but the question racks his brain as well. An unbonded, nonmated Alpha rejecting the chance to have sex? T'Challa cannot believe himself when he admits to Shuri that their cousin is, indeed, a fine specimen in a conversation pertaining to their lack of mates. Perhaps thw two of them are not meant for that. Shuri was mortified by the confession, at first, but then does nothing but tease him in her own ways. He trusts her with that sort of information, though. At least in the case that it won't travel to all of Wakanda that the King believes that the cousin that he nearly killed is good looking. Imagine the blowup. 

T'Challa sees Erik at least twice a day. Sometimes it is just them walking by each other (and T'Challa pretends he is not there because he can't afford to think that the Alpha is worthy of his attention) and N'Jadaka is a part of the council, despite everyone remaining scared stiff of him. He has wonderful insight, especially on the world outside of the border, and there is no denying of his obvious intelligence. 

The problem is not N'Jadaka as a person; it is his inability to accept the fact that someone ranked under him biologically is above him. T'Challa is a King, fought his way to return to the throne and to the mend the broken pieces. At times, Erik gets deadly quiet and suddenly outbursts a rejection, eyes mad as he defies the beta in front of the rest of the council. And T'Challa is nothing but understanding that an Alpha completely rejects being overtaken, willing to fight to irrational ends to prove dominance in a given situation.

It only takes this one time for T'Challa's voice to harden. "Please dismiss N'Jadaka and I." They talk amongst themselves as they exit the room, obviously interested in the sudden change in pace. Erik sits, legs open and leaned back, unaffected by T'Challa's use of an assertive voice. 

"You cannot keep inducing arguments just because-"

"You know what," Erik stands, jacket displaying a hint of the naked skin underneath, "I remember sitting there, telling everyone that we were sending out weapons across the world and no one said shit to stop me. That's what happens when you're an Alpha, people listen." 

"And your point is?" T'Challa stands, sizing himself up. He does not really want to fight his cousin once more, but there is a thrum in his veins, begging for action. 

"My point is that I can just fight you again and I'll win, and start this all over from the beginning. I've always had the advantage." Erik has always had the advantage, was born with the advantage, but he refuses to back down from this. The coherence of the entire world may rest om him, in this aspect. Erik steps up to him, circling around him like a predator to its prey. 

"Is that your plan?" He swallows, uncomfortable with the stare he is getting from the Alpha. N'Jadaka is silent for a bit too long and T'Challa can do nothing but tense himself, mentally preparing himself for a fight, if this was the plan all along. 

"Nah. I wouldn't intentionally tell you what I'm going to do." So there is something that he has in mind. The King can't help but wonder if his actions to bring Erik back into Wakandan civilization had been the right one, after. Erik comes close behind him and T'Challa keeps his head looking forward. He refuses to give in, look back at his old enemy. Silence envelops the room again, T'Challa tensed so tightly he might be stuck in this position.

"You smell good, cuz." _What?_

N'Jadaka just flashes a smile and walks out of the room, door banging lowly behind him. T'Challa breathes out shakily, relaxing his body as he slumps back into his seat. He smells good? Was that a ruse, some distraction to divert him from the conversation? 

"Oh Bast." As usual, the goddess doesn't answer. 

* * *

Since then, it has felt more like N'Jadaka is trying to rile him up, push him to his limits. Shuri was of no help, claiming the extra attention might not be that bad. Nakia was even worse when she reminded him that Alphas display their interests in quite confusing ways. 

T'Challa knows what he felt. He wasn't scared that Erik is trying to get the throne, but the Beta in him sensed that the Alpha was trying to get  _him._ In what way, T'Challa could not figure out. He had yet to consider that Erik had even shown an interest to anyone, not when he was rejecting applicably bondable Wakandans. Now it makes more sense, if Erik was really into someone and had established something with them, the impulse would be to deny all lesser options until the unbonded Alpha became tired of the person, whoever they may be. 

It couldn't be him. The last time they even touched, that was memorable, was when N'Jadaka attacked him after he had woken, screaming crazily at him because he had betrayed him. Kept him alive when he was supposed to buried in the ocean with his ancestors. Death may be better than bondage, but T'Challa considered that he would never hold his cousin in chains or behind bars. Perhaps the bondage was moreof a mental and emotional aspect than the physical chains. 

"You won't know if you don't ask him," Shuri says, leading him to another piece of technology to look at.

"I do not want to ask. I want no relations with him." The shield she presented is flexible and absorbs kinetic energy, much like the suit. He cannot be amazed by the abilities of his sister. 

"That's not what you said when you called him attractive." Nevermind, he takes it back. 

T'Challa groans. "Will you ever give that up?"

"Give what up?" N'Jadaka walks down the stairs and T'Challa can feel his whole demeanor change. No, Shuri didn't-

She smiles at him. She did. 

"What are you doing here?" Erik looks at him evenly and he hates that he has nothing against the damned Alpha. 

"You have a problem with me being here?" He's challenging him, chest puffed out and eyebrow raised. Shuri pretends to be working on something, but there is a wicked, wider smile on her face. He won't fall into the trap. 

"No," T'Challa resigns carefully, thankful when his Kimoyo beads beep. "I must attend to this." He walks up the steps faster than usual, not looking behind him to see the reactions of his sister and cousin. T'Challa hates how this feels more like running. In reality, it was nothing important. An update on the latest news, but he felt cornered to be next to his cousin. 

On the way to the office, the King insists that he might as well get some work done. 

* * *

It's late now. His eyes burn from the constant eye focus to papers and digital screens. All T'Challa wants to do is sleep off the rest of the night. He salutes the two Dora at the door, opening to the dark room. The door closes behind him and he flicks on the light. The exhaustion dissipates quickly.

"N-"

"Shh." Erik hushes him, a hand over his mouth. Is he out of his mind? T'Challa stays quiet, waiting for the next movement. There is absolutely no reason why his cousin should be in his room? How did he even get in? He can feel the breaths of Erik against the back and hear as he smells him. 

"You ran away from me." N'Jadaka concludes, voice strangely deeper, releasing the hand over T'Challa's mouth. 

"I had important things to -" 

"Bullshit. You've been running for weeks." T'Challa scoffs in disbelief. His cousin really came in here to cause another fight between them. Isn't there enough tension as it is? 

"I have." There is no point in lying. It'll only be make the Alpha stay longer if he does. Erik smiles. 

"I think you want me, T. I think you'd give it to me it you could." So this is what this is all about? 

"I don't want you." There's a hitch when Erik wraps an arm around his back, forcing their chests together, and ducks his head to get a full whiff of his scent. Strong. Arousing. He wants to suffocate in the intoxication.

"You're lying." T'Challa tries to push himself away politely, well aware that he could've fought his way out of this at any point. Erik's hold tightens. He knows that the Alpha can smell the pheromones on him, smell the attraction that T'Challa is so willing to try to get away from. T'Challa can't have what is never meant to be his.

"You can't do this," says T'Challa, but the words hold no bite. He maneuvers away, using the additional help of the heart shaped herb. Confidently, N'Jadaka wraps a hand to his jugular, squeezing enough to make the Beta short of breath, leaving him quite incapable of wanting to fight. Anticipation and a dose of fear mix.

"Are you going to stop me?" A challenge. "I don't mind taking what I want, but I need to hear it." 

T'Challa just looks at him, struggling to swallow as Erik noses at his cheek. 

"Say it." He demands the words as if he is a omega, expecting him to immediately comply. Like Erik's lack of reaction towards his role as King, it does the same for Beta and Alpha's together. He does not necessarily need to obey. He does though, for the sake of raising the white flag

"I want you, N'Jadaka." His wet eyes blink at Erik, whose flashes his teeth in approval. 

"You're mine now, kitty," and tugs T'Challa forward to connect their mouths. There was a moment when T'Challa doesn't believe that this is occurring. He is kissing his cousin - someone he nearly killed, and their bodies are a constant reminder of that - an Alpha who could've had anyone else, but the moment is gone as soon as it comes with the King relishing in the feeling. 

Fire and Earth. Eventually he is going to be burned, destroying his foundations and causing him to rebuild once again, but he takes his chances, pressing himself more into the kiss. 

 

* * *

In prospect, T'Challa shouldn't of hypothesized that this "relationship" of theirs was going to chance the way that the two of them interact in public. In fact, their interactions had become worse. Erik would intentionally continue to rile him up during the day so that he can spend the whole night making T'Challa forget why he was mad at him in the first place. Outside of them, most were to assume that they are just fighting more and that Erik is training for challenge day again. 

That's funny; N'Jadaka trains under the sheets more than he does with a spear.

T'Challa walks to his room, not even surprised when Erik is already there, sprawled out on top of his bed on a phone. He suppresses an eye roll, removing his robe and shrugging on a casual shirt instead. 

"Why even put a shirt on if you're going to take it back off?" 

"Because I have decency, unlike you," fires T'Challa. Erik tosses his phone to the nightstand carelessly, walking up to the Kings, arms extended, waiting. 

"I have decency, just not around you." T'Challa unbuttons his robe, folding it on top of his. It's something that they do now, the small acts of looking after each other. There are days when Erik writes out reports for him because he can't keep his eyes open. In public, the two are hopeless, but behind walls, it is like they know each other too well, as if they were-

T'Challa comments sarcastically, "nice of you to pop into my meeting with M'Baku today." It doesn't hold much bite. It has become a challenge itself to stay mad at him, no matter what he does. All too well, T'Challa is aware of what that means, aware of the border of emotions he is due to cross at some point. Erik scents him, growling lowly. 

"You smell like him. I'll fuck him up." 

"I hugged him before he left, is that a crime? You can't say you'll kill anyone that touches me, it's not rational." T'Challa can't help but smile at the string of curses he gets afterwards. 

"I'll kill whoever I want, nobody touches you but me." He knows Erik is conscious that it is literally impossible, but it is the part of him that needs to claim talking for him. The Alpha licks at his neck, rubbing his body against his to overwhelm the scent of other people. It is quite the entertainment.

"Good luck to your future mate," he jokes aloud. It doesn't feel like a joke when it leaves his mouth, when the reminder sneaks in that the two of them, more than likely, have someone else out there. Erik definitely does, some omega who is meant to be his better half and to bear his kids one day. It makes him feel a little numb, to think about it, caused by the countless times he has seen N'Jadaka naked, physically and emotionally. Some things just don't feel right, no matter what rank you were blessed with.

"Don't want a mate. I'm good." 

"Why is that?" T'Challa turns, pressing his back into the heat of Erik's chest.

Erik bites at the line of his jaw, trailing to the lobe of his ear when he whispers. "I can't choose them. It's fucking stupid." 

"They're chosen to be your companion for life. You have one somewhere waiting for you." Does Erik have any respect for the way things have to be? T'Challa shakes his head, already knowing the answer to the question. In the time that he has known him, the answer to that question has always been no, battling against the systems that are stacked against them. (and winning, somehow, which is something T'Challa can admire about him. The man never loses.)

"Then tell them I'm too busy fucking you." N'Jadaka tugs at the King's shirt, revealing the healing bite marks scattered over his skin, dating at least a week back. A rough lover, unafraid to leave him marks for everyone to see. The Alpha turns him around so that they're facing, kissing him so deeply that his mouth is permanently etched into his memory. T'Challa can't find himself to be upset the scars that is left. It is his way of having a piece of Erik once the inevitable happens. He falls back to the soft of the bed, Erik hovering over him. 

"You won't reject your mate." Erik gives him an annoyed looked, making haste to take off the King's pants, T'Challa helping by raising his hips. He can already feel the heat in the center of his abdomen as the Alpha swallows T'Challa down, humming, satisfied as he claims another part of him. T'Challa moans breathlessly under him, ready for him again. Always ready for N'Jadaka. 

Erik pushes a finger inside and T'Challa takes it, nearly begging for more, receiving just that before the words leave his mouth. They know each other too well; what they like, when they need more. Communication is lost and replaced completely by the understanding and the actions back it up. Two fingers twisted in him and Erik swallowing him down easily, he is about to-

"E-" but Erik knows, using his free hand to push T'Challa back down as he establishes eye contact. Another twist and that is all it took. T'Challa slumps his head back, breathing harshly. N'Jadaka gets back up, tongue kissing him through his orgasmic high. And he can taste himself on Erik's tongue, but all it does is make it more intimate.

He is going to fall, he knows it. There is nothing that he can do to fight it anymore if they keep doing this. 

T'Challa feels the pressing against his entrance, groaning at the stretch. The Alpha kisses at his mating gland.

"Watch me," Erik says as he slides home. 

* * *

 

The mission was a tough one. This is exactly why he needed someone who was just as strong or stronger there, right on his back in case it all went south. His pride skewed the fact, not willing to bring the only person he wanted fighting beside of him. He can be strong without Erik; he did just fine before the man strolled into Wakanda, ready to take over as if it was his destiny to. 

T'Challa licks at lip, the copper taste of dried blood providing him something other than his lack of water. Without the suit, any movement came with its own price. A spike tucked under his chin kept his head up, traps placed all over the room. He was weak, weaker than what he felt at Warrior Falls when Erik-

_Erik._

He should've brought him or M'Baku. He didn't have to do this all on his own because now look at him, being watched as they use the suit to terrorize the lives of the innocent. In all that is said and done, he misses N'Jadaka. Misses the feeling of his hands gripping him possessively as he talks about his day or the defiant attitude the exudes for everyone else, even more angry when it doesn't work for him. A fact that didn't truly sink in until he is with nobody but his his thoughts is that, no matter how much he wanted to keep somewhat of a distance, he loves Erik. Has loved him for a while. 

His neck is tired. The fact that they used this old form of torture is impressive, to say in the least. Even with the enhanced strength without the suit, he is tired. He's been holding himself for so long and sleep hasn't been in his agenda for at least three days. Time blurs when you can't see anything. 

T'Challa hears a bang. He wants to get up, but the electrical shocks when he breaks the binds of the chair makes his head move down as an impulse. The spike has already broke the skin barrier and dried blood runs down his neck. If Shuri were to take the mantle after him, he knows she would be better than he has been. She is brilliant, caring, and probably wouldn't let her pride get her stuck in situations just like this. T'Challa wishes soberly that his previous words to them would have had more meaning, so that, in the case that this is his end, they can move on better. He doesn't want to be like his Baba. Not like this. 

T'Challa hears a series of bangs and the door creaks open. He sniffs the air, instantly relaxing when he recognizes the scent, accidentally pressing against the spike again.

"Baby." He has never been called that. The buckle that wrapped around his neck comes off and T'Challa can finally put his head down. He breathes once before Erik kisses him. Hard. It takes away the air he so desperately needed and injures his busted lip further, but he would much rather have that instead of air. "Don't you fucking do that again." He feels Erik mess with the bindings around his entire body. 

T'Challa begins to stand, but N'Jadaka lifts him up instead. 

"I can move on my own."

"There's actually a lot of dead bodies on the floor and I doubt you can see them." T'Challa rubs at his sore neck, uncaring for the multitude of wounds varied along him. The herb helped when it could, but the body is too weak to do the rest. N'Jadaka came for him. T'Challa ignores the way his heart beats faster. 

"Surprised you didn't take the gold suit." The grip on him tightens and Erik jumps over something. He must be wearing some night vision or Shuri's advanced version of it. It seemed much more worth it to spark a conversation other than the situation that the two of them are currently escaping.

"I was going to, but Shuri said I can't shoot people in it." T'Challa cuts his laugh short when he thinks about his suit.

"Wait about my suit-"

"Don't worry about it." He wants to ask again, but doesn't. Instead he huddles himself closer into Erik's warmth as they board the airship. It closes behind them, lifting into the air. Erik sits on the side, hiding his face. T'Challa can hear him breathe deeply. 

"I'll kill them all," N'Jadaka promises, lightly touching the worst of injuries, "they touched what's mine. They hurt you." 

"I might kill them first."

"Is that a challenge?" Erik's lips twitch upward, a success. 

 _I love you,_ T'Challa thinks as he puts a hand on the side of Erik's face, fond. He doesn't say it though, getting up from the Alpha's lap to the back room. N'Jadaka doesn't follow him, which is both a relief and a frustration. T'Challa runs water over his over face, drinking the rest, and wishing desperately that he wasn't going to lose yet another person that he has loved. 

Erik does come in, later, and rubs an oil against each of the wounds, stitching each of them back together within minutes. If only that oil worked against his heart.

* * *

 

 

Against the objections, T'Challa brought Erik with him back to America. The program had another opening, one that the King had full intentions of being there for. Once they had arrived, T'Challa had already began to regret his decision to bring N'Jadaka with him. Yes, he wanted to show Erik the good that this program is doing, reminding him that he influenced this, but now there are people staring at him. 

T'Challa is not the type to be jealous, but he can't help the tightening of his hands. Can't help but wonder if Erik is going to come back with his mate once he goes away, because everyone is a suspect but him. The unmated fawn over the Alpha and his overwhelming dominant presence in the room. Erik spares him one look as they walk side by side, the people moving away in knowledge of who they are. Despite it, T'Challa keeps his head high, refusing to let his feelings get in the way of what he came here to do. 

He lets N'Jadaka, smiling at the applause that follows after. People rush into the building for the celebration and the music booms. T'Challa intentionally walks without his partner. He wants Erik to enjoy himself. It's been a while since he's been in America, in Oakland again. If anything, T'Challa's feelings towards him shouldn't hinder his utmost wishes for the Alpha. 

T'Challa doesn't prefer to drink, so he can't find himself able to blame it on anything in his system. One minute Erik is talking away, one drink in his hand, and the next there is a woman full on kissing him on the mouth. T'Challa excuses himself and walks over to them, fighting against the part of him saying to not bother. 

"N'Jadaka, are you alright?" The girl giggles, pressing herself into him completely. Erik doesn't push her away like he did the rest. 

"Ooh is that your name? I like it." She strokes his face, down his chest, looking at him like she wants him. Erik has yet to look him in his eye. It clicks then. N'Jadaka cannot push her away because they are mates. He found his mate. He has interrupted their first meeting. T'Challa's chest hurts. 

"Oh, I apologize. I will.. leave you two." T'Challa turns and, with added effort, walks back to where he started. He can do this; he needs to be happy for him. Somehow he already knows that he can't do it. 

He leaves a little early, dismissing himself to sleep before their trip tomorrow. Or maybe just his. 

The hotel room is empty when he walks in. The removes his clothing, folding it in a corner, habitually. He puts night pants and settles himself into the bed. The cold sheets don't slide against his fingers like the ones at home do. There isn't someone next to him, like there usually is. He is with his mate. 

T'Challa told him that he won't be able to say no. Mates are meant to be together. There is nothing that can fight against that. T'Challa sighs to the ceiling. He opened a center, is sharing his resources to the rest of the world, as it should be? He should be happy. 

A knock comes to the door. Erik steps in, as if nothing just happened. 

"N'Jadaka, I thought you were with-"

"Her name is Victoria." Erik waves his hand, as if dismissing the thought. 

"What are you doing here?" He doesn't mean to sound as harsh as he is. 

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Erik grabs at him, glaring. T'Challa holds his own. "Is it about Victoria?" 

“She is meant to be your forever,” T’Challa keeps his voice as evenly as he can, “not me. Go back to her. T’Challa tries to push himself away, distance himself so that the pain in the middle of his chest can somewhat relieve itself. This is what he deserves for creating a relationship to an unmated alpha.

“I don’t give a shit about if she’s my mate or not,” Erik growls, hands tightening around his wrist. “I don’t want her. She reeks of Alphas and.. she's not you.” T'Challa wants to believe it, wants to keep N'Jadaka all to himself if he could. 

“You cannot pick and choose who is your mate, N’Jadaka. I’m sure you’ll learn to love her after you meet her officially.” The beta shrugs out of the alphas grip. He tries desperately to swallow down the hurt; he’s a King, he should act like it. 

“Don’t be bitchin’ away because you’re hurt.” What else is he supposed to be? 

“You do not understand. This is over now. The minute you noticed her is the minute I lost you.” T’Challa moves to open the door, but the Alpha is right there, eyes angry.

"The hell it is.” Erik pushes the door closed. “You’re mine, kitten.” 

“N-” 

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone has to say, I choose you. I’ll claim you in front of everyone at that damn party if I need to. You’re mine.” T'Challa sighs when Erik wraps himself completely around him.

“Go back to her, Erik.” Then T’Challa is completely trapped under the power of the Alpha. N’Jadaka looks moments from losing control; there is nothing else T’Challa can do is wait patiently, so that maybe the rationality of the situation can seep in. They're done. This is done. 

“Fuck what anyone else says, I claim T’Challa Udaku as my mate.” Erik opens his mouth, teeth sharper than it was moments ago, and clamps his mouth at the juncture of T’Challa’s neck. The mating gland. 

T’Challa feels the heat of the bite, feels the claim surge through him, blanketing his body in the scent of his Alpha for everyone to smell. N’Jadaka flexes his jaw, teeth sinking deeper, and T’Challa can do nothing but gasp for air. 

“N’Jadaka,” moans the King, and it seems to snap Erik out of it. He steps back and wipes the excess blood from his mouth. T’Challa touches the mark, almost shameful when his knees almost buckle from the mere pressure. 

“What did you do?” He whispers. N’Jadaka claimed someone else as his mate. There was nothing in history that said that it was even possible to do that. This can’t be happening. The numerous panicked thoughts rack through his brain, but Erik is in his space again, hands secured on each side of his face. T’Challa naturally relaxes in the hold. 

“I told you you’re mine. I mean that shit.” A protest lies on his lips against everything that just conspired, but lips against his own silence all of it. The Alpha pushes him towards the bed, breathing against the mark that has T’Challa moaning helplessly. 

"I love you." Erik freezes and he thinks he may have said it too early. Erik smiles, dragging his nose against his cheek.

"I know." T'Challa lifts his head, drawing their lips together once more.

* * *

"Baby," Erik drops his bag by the door. T'Challa pops out of the bathroom, wearing one of his hoodies. 

"Miss me so much that you're wearin' my shit?" Erik walks up to him, kissing him fiercely. The King had willingly dropped himself out of the latest mission without reason, not like T'Challa had to explain himself. The first thing he notices is that his mate's scent is off. It doesn't smell like another person had been on him, but..off. 

"I might've missed you," T'Challa teases. 

"Why do you smell off?" There is a moment of panic in his mate's face, he can see it, and it sets him off. The King covers it up with a neutral expression.

"After dinner." Erik nods sharply. He knows there ain't been no damn man in his bed or someone is going to die. Painfully. T'Challa orders the meal to be in their room, eating in silence as the tension bleeds. Or maybe it's just N'Jadaka because T'Challa looks damn happy with his food. 

"Are you going to fucking tell me or not?" 

"I was getting sick before you left for your mission. I was puking while you did your morning runs, so I went to see a doctor. It turns out I wasn't sick, but I still had to stay here while you went." 

"So if you're not sick, then-" T'Challa lifts the hoodie up. N'Jadaka finds himself drawn to the secret. 

"You're," Erik pauses, "are you serious?" He reaches out, feeling the bump himself because he knows he can't be imagining it. It's real, he can smell the change in scent stronger in the middle. T'Challa, above him, bites his lip nervously, waiting. 

"Oh my fucking God, I'm going to be a dad!" He jumps up, wrapping himself around T'Challa and picking him up. T'Challa laughs, hugging tightly. Erik puts his beta back down, placing a hand to his abdomen. He never thought this day would come. 

"I love you," N'Jadaka says finally. T'Challa brings their faces together, grinning stupidly. 

"I know."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I could write a whole fic about this :) I hope you liked it.


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